The Fall Girl (10 page)

Kinky stationed himself on the seat beside her, and she secured his lead around her wrist.

“So, you managed to find somewhere to stay?” Milo took a sip of his drink.

“Yeah – little bed and breakfast. Thought it would be for the best.”

“Think you had the right idea. I saw your husband yesterday in his marquee, and he certainly has a panoramic view of your cabin.”

Lexy gave an involuntary shiver. “Did you actually see him in action? Doing the genial host act?”

Milo nodded.

“Jerk, isn’t he?”

Milo nodded again.

“You still working on that case?” he asked. “The girl with the supernatural fixation about that fall up at Four Winds Cottage?”

“Uh-huh.” The fall girl. Is that what Rowana had made herself into? Taking the blame for someone else’s murderous act?

“It’s only up the road from here, isn’t it?”

“That’s right.” She avoided his eyes. Too late.

He put down his drink, comprehension dawning. “That’s where you’re staying, isn’t it?”

Lexy rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t intending to. I just went up there for a quick look, I knew it was empty and I...”

“Broke in?”

“No. I had a key. Decided on the spur of the moment to stay there.”

“Who knows you’re there?”

Lexy pulled a face. “Yesterday – no one. But as of this morning – probably the whole village.”

He frowned.

“Well, first,” said Lexy, “I ran into the two sons who come from the farm at the foot of the hill.”

“The Gallimores.”

“Yes – do you know them?”

“They’re known to us.” He took another sip.

“By us you mean the police?” Lexy’s heart began to race. “Care to elaborate?”

Milo hesitated.

“Don’t worry – I won’t tell the chief constable.”

His lips twisted. “Gallimore senior – what’s his name – Bruno?”

“Bruce.”

“That’s it. Arrived here over a year ago. Came from France, where the two sons were born and brought up, although I think he was originally from Yorkshire.”

That figured.

“His wife had been killed in a high wire accident. Came to the attention of the French police, which is how we got to know about it.”

“High wire?”

“She was a circus performer. Gallimore ran a circus out there.”

“You’re kidding.” Lexy tried to imagine Bruce in a ringmaster’s outfit; white breeches, red coat, black boots, top hat, big whip in his hand. It wasn’t an image
that sat easily with the curmudgeonly farmer. He had the right moustache, though, luxuriant enough to wax into a theatrical curl either side.

“So what was the story with the high wire?”

Milo shrugged. “Don’t know the details, other than there was some kind of argument up there, and she fell and broke her neck.”

As he watched Lexy take this in, her smile evaporating, Milo’s expression slowly changed, too. “Now you’re going to tell me the Gallimores are involved in another falling
incident, aren’t you?”

Lexy took a big gulp of cider. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“I don’t believe I’m hearing this. The Elizabeth Cassall case is over. Finished with.”

“But listen – this might be important.”

Milo closed his eyes, appeared to count under his breath. “OK. You’ve got five minutes. Then if you mention that woman again, I’m out of here.”

“Deal.” Lexy leant forward. “When I met Tyman Gallimore, Bruce’s younger son, up at the cottage this morning, and told him I was a friend of the Patersons, and that they
were the new owners and...”

“Hang on. Who are the Patersons?”

“Rowana’s family. You know – witch-girl. And her dad, and older sister, Gabrielle.”

“Her family owns the place now?”

“Well, Rowana does, actually. Elizabeth left it to her in her will.”

Milo’s brow creased. “But I didn’t think Elizabeth had any living relatives. She was an only child, parents both dead, husband dead...”

“Husband? Didn’t know she was married.” Lexy thought back to the photo on the tallboy. “Was he in the army, by any chance?”

Milo nodded. “Killed in the Gulf War.”

So that was him. “Tough.”

“Yes.” Their eyes met briefly. Milo had been there. His policewoman wife had been killed on duty less than a year ago.

“So these Patersons?” he urged. “Where do they fit into the family tree?”

“Oh, they’re not relatives of Elizabeth. That’s the odd thing.”

Milo stacked three beer mats neatly together. “Go on,” he growled.

“Elizabeth used to be a friend of Rowana’s mother, apparently. Must have been a very good friend, because in her will, Elizabeth left everything to her. The cottage and all her
savings. And in the event of her death...” Lexy shrugged. “Everything went to her daughter, Rowana.”

“How did you find all this out?”

“From Rowana herself, when she came to see me. You see, her family had this confectionery shop in London, which the Patersons had run since the year dot. Except that six weeks ago they got
evicted, because it turned out Mr Paterson hadn’t been able to afford the rent any more. Something to do with the shop coming into the ownership of a big property corporation.”

Milo pursed his lips and folded a paper napkin into a tight square.

“Obviously it was traumatic for them,” Lexy went on, “and they had been desperately thinking of ways to raise money and salvage the situation. In the end, they realised that it
would take nothing short of a miracle. So Rowana thought she’d have a go at summoning an ancient pagan goddess to help them out.”

Milo rolled his eyes.

“Give her her due, she got all the equipment,” Lexy continued. “Altar, candles, herbs and stuff, then one night, when the other two were away, she set up a magic circle in the
greenhouse...”

“The greenhouse?”

“Don’t ask. Carried out a summoning spell, invoked a goddess and entreated her to bestow riches. Abracadabra, the following morning, a friend of her mother who just happened to have
left Rowana a country cottage and thirty grand in savings in her will went plummeting to her death.”

“The following morning?” Ice-grey eyes met hers. Milo took a plastic pen out of his pocket and began absent-mindedly clacking it between his teeth.

Lexy watched him, chin in hand. “So, are my five minutes up yet?”

“Shut up, and... keep talking.”

“Rowana said the will was a complete shock to her. She’d never even heard of Elizabeth Cassall. I mean, you can understand how she might have thought the whole thing was somehow down
to her magic-making, poor kid. She’s beside herself. Convinced she was responsible. Didn’t even want to come here and see the place.”

Milo unfolded the napkin and drew a circle in the middle. Wrote the letters RP in the centre. Rowana Paterson.

“Presumably her dad and sister felt differently?” he said. “After all, here was their opportunity to get back on their feet.”

“According to Rowana, they’d never heard of Elizabeth either, but I get the impression her dad didn’t say it very convincingly. Think her sister is the only one genuinely
overjoyed about it all, especially as Rowana has said she’ll donate the lot to starting up a new confectionery business.”

Lexy felt in her bag. “Now here’s the really weird bit. I found this in Four Winds Cottage.”

She handed him the photo.

He studied it and gave her a sharp look. “The Patersons?”

“The very same.”

He turned it over. “Taken last year, in London – that’s the Eye in the background.”

Lexy nodded. “And without their knowledge, by the looks of it.”

“Implying what? That Elizabeth was secretly stalking them?”

“It kind of ties in with their claim that they’ve never heard of her.”

Milo contemplated the photo in silence for a moment. “But surely the father must have known Elizabeth if she was such a good friend of Rowana’s mother?”

“You’d have thought so.”

“So where do you come into all of this?” Milo’s voice was weary.

“I told you. Rowana hired me to investigate whether her psychic meddling had caused Elizabeth’s death.”

The detective raised his eyebrows.

“Which, obviously, it didn’t.” Lexy took another large swallow of her cider. “The kid just needed someone to confide in, put her mind at rest. She gave me the key to the
cottage. I mean, I had to at least come here and have a look, didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did, didn’t you?”

“Makes a difference, that will, doesn’t it?” said Lexy.

“Maybe.”

“But it doesn’t explain the odd behaviour of the Gallimores.” Lexy moved on to her pet subject. “Now, this, I think, is even more bizarre.”

Milo shut his eyes. “I want to go home now.”

“Listen, like I was saying earlier, when I met Tyman today, he was utterly... well, flabbergasted when I told him Four Winds Cottage was in new ownership.”

Milo gave her a
so what?
look.

“He let slip that his family had been banking on buying the cottage. They expected it to come on to the market after Elizabeth’s death. Then, when I asked him about Elizabeth, Tyman
told me that he was the one who found her. Shortly after she fell over the balcony.”

“I know that. He made a statement.”

“But I got the feeling he wanted to tell me something else. I dunno, like there was something more to it.” Lexy was annoyed that she couldn’t explain it better. “He said
he felt guilty about it.”

Milo’s eyebrow crooked up.

“Then Ward Gallimore appeared.” Lexy pulled a face. “Wasn’t giving much away, but I could see he was also in deep shock when his brother told him the cottage was in new
hands. I mean, he practically dragged Tyman away – like they had some urgent thinking to do. It was obvious they wanted that cottage pretty badly.”

“Badly enough to kill the occupant, you mean?” Milo gave a short laugh.

“You had to be there. When I met the father, he was exactly the same about it. This automatic assumption that they would be able to buy the place because Elizabeth had died. It just made
me wonder.”

She paused, looking at the detective hopefully. “Perhaps they discovered Elizabeth had no relatives. Thought that if she was out of the way, they could get in there.”

“That’s pushing it a bit far.”

“Interesting choice of verb, that. Freudian slip, was it?”

“Very funny.”

“Anyway, it then got me wondering whether ownership of the cottage would mean that the Gallimores owned the whole of Freshing Hill. Which means that they could subsequently sell it on for
development, or something, for big money.”

“You and your imagination.”

“It’s a perfectly reasonable theory. And that’s another thing. I spoke to the woman in the village shop today. She reckons that there was more to Elizabeth’s death than
meets the eye, too.”

“Lexy – this is a village. If Elizabeth had died peacefully in her bed aged one hundred and two, the woman in the shop would say there was more to it than meets the eye.
Where’s your evidence?”

“No smoke without fire.”

“Is that it?”

“Well, I bet the Gallimores won’t waste any time approaching the Patersons about buying the place.”

“Doesn’t prove anything.” But Milo’s eyes were thoughtful.

Lexy frowned. “You know what they... uh-oh.”

She snatched the photo from the table and thrust it in her pocket. Rowana Paterson had just pushed open the door to the pub. She hesitated in the doorway, looking around. Saw Lexy and her mouth
fell open in surprise.

Lexy frantically beckoned her to the alcove.

“What are you doing here?”

Rowana shot a look at the policeman.

“It’s OK,” said Lexy. “This is Milo. He’s my... partner.” She tried not to look at his startled eyebrows. Milo, this is Rowana Paterson.”

Milo crushed the paper napkin in his fist.

“Hi,” said Rowana, still eyeing Milo dubiously. She turned to Lexy. “Dad got this sudden urge to come over and have another look around the grounds up at Four Winds.”

“What – now?”

“Yes. My sister’s here, too. They’re just parking the van.” Rowana looked anxiously behind her at the door. “The reason we came here first is because I wanted to go
to the loo. Then Dad decided he wanted a beer. They’ll be here in a minute. So, what are you doing here?” She dropped her voice. “Investigating?”

“Yeah,” Lexy murmured back. “And the thing is, Rowana, I’m staying over at the cottage.”

The girl gasped. “Seriously?”

“I thought it would be better to be on the spot. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course not. But isn’t it really scary there on your own? And you stayed overnight?” Her voice had risen.

“It’s fine. It’s fine. Really. Only trouble is...”

Rowana gave a start. “They’re here.”

She squashed herself further into the alcove. Milo cleared his throat. Lexy was practically sitting on his lap now. Kinky balanced precariously between them.

“Nice place, isn’t it?” A man’s voice, quiet but melodious. “Be great to have a local like this. Look at those little alcoves.”

Lexy and Rowana ducked.

“Did you find anything out about... you know what?” whispered Rowana.

Oh, yes. The Goddess Helandra and her part in Elizabeth’s downfall. “A couple of things. We need to talk, but not now, obviously.”

“They’re getting a drink,” said Milo, from the corner of his mouth.

“Right,” Lexy muttered. “That’ll give me a chance to nip back up to the cottage and move my sleeping bag out from the middle of the living room, before your dad looks in
and thinks he’s got a squatter.” Wouldn’t want him to think that.

Milo shifted against Lexy. “I’ll drop you there.”

“I don’t know why on earth he wants another look,” Rowana said. “It’s not like we’re going to be living there. I’d better sneak over and join them
before...”

“So you’re selling it?” Lexy interrupted.

“Yes, we’re... ”

“Rowana! What are you doing?”

Lexy and Rowana raised their heads.

Standing in front of the alcove, carrying two drinks, was an exceptionally pretty girl, who knew she was exceptionally pretty. The photo in Lexy’s pocket didn’t do her justice.
Sapphire eyes flicked over Lexy’s faded jeans, ancient denim jacket and scarred chihuahua, then turned to the policeman, and opened a little wider.